Three Tequila Floor
by MrsEads
Summary: [Snickers] Sara works a tough case, but after she and Nick go to a bar, the unthinkable happens. Chapter 3 is now up.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** No, I'm not dead. I'm back. This is my first story in, oh…eight months, so I may be a bit rusty, but I hope you enjoy it just the same. Without further ado…

**Spoilers:** _Who Are You?_, _Overload_

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. I don't own it, and I don't pretend to own it. I would _like_ to own it, though.

_I would like to extend a special thank-you to **bauerfreak** for putting up with all my schizophreniac writing and changing my mind every five seconds. Also for making me write again. I can't thank you enough._

* * *

"Why did you kill her?" Sara asked.

Troy Kinnon, the man sitting in front of her, said nothing.

"_Why?_" Sara demanded.

"Because she was a bitch and a slut. She didn't deserve anything. Not money, not love, and definitely not life," he sneered. "She was worthless; a nobody. So I killed her."

Sara looked at him in disgust and narrowed her eyes. "Your whole life is about to become worthless. Twenty-five to _life_." She relished the words as she said them. "And when I match your DNA to the fingernail scrapings from the other two prostitutes we found, I guarantee that you'll die by lethal injection. And you'd better hope that when you're lying there, strapped to the table, waiting to die, I don't come in there and stick you with the needle myself." She turned her glare away from Kinnon and said, "Get him out of here, Brass."

Brass and a uniform stepped out of the corner, handcuffs at the ready. "Troy Kinnon, you are under arrest for the murder of Robyn Morgan."

* * *

Sara was angry. She'd seen a lot on the job, but there were still some cases that got to her, and for no apparent reason. This wasn't even an abuse case. She went into the locker room and grabbed a towel and some shampoo from her locker, then headed towards the showers. Nick was there – it was the end of shift for him too. All three of the showers were full, so Nick and Sara would have to wait.

"Hey," Nick said, and offered a smile.

"Hi," Sara replied, still a bit put out over the Robyn case.

Sensing that something was wrong, Nick asked, "Did you wrap up that Robyn Morgan case? I know you've been working on it for a while."

"Yeah," she sighed. "We got him."

"Good," Nick commented. Just then, they heard a shower being shut off.

"I can't wait to go home," Sara mentioned, "but I think I'm going to go out for a drink or two first."

"Want some company?" Nick offered.

Sara looked at him. _Why not?_ she asked herself. "I'd like that," she admitted. "Maybe we can all go out together."

"How about just you and me?" suggested Nick. He could tell she was really upset about something, and thought she'd be more likely to open up to him if they were alone.

"Okay," Sara agreed. Just then, Warrick stepped out of the shower stall.

"Hey, guys," he said, smiling. "I'll see you later."

"See ya, Warrick," Nick said.

"Bye," Sara added. She held her hand out to the empty shower stall. "All yours."

"No, you can go," he said.

"But you were here first," Sara protested.

"Yeah, but you have longer hair than me. I can probably shower faster so we can be ready to go at the same time," he reassured her.

Sara smiled at him in gratitude. He was so considerate. "Thanks. That's thoughtful of you," she said as she stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain closed behind her.

The curtains, though they did their job, were not terribly long, and Nick could see the top of her head and from her knees down. He saw her slip off her shoes and trouser socks, and couldn't help but notice how pretty her feet were. Her copper-painted toenails were well-kept and she had the cutest toes Nick had ever seen. As her black slacks slipped to the floor, her perfectly shaped calves were revealed.

A few seconds later, he heard her shower turn on, just as another turned off.

_Good_, Nick thought. _My turn_.

Minutes later, Matt, the dayshift DNA tech, emerged from the centre shower. "All yours, man," Matt said.

Puzzled, Nick queried, "Why are you showering before your shift?"

"The water main that services my apartment building broke. I have no water," he explained, grinning. Nick wondered why he seemed so happy about it. If Nick woke up to find out he had no water, he'd be ready to crack some skulls.

"Nice," Nick said, empathizing with Matt's situation. "See you later, man."

"See ya."

With that, Nick stepped into the shower stall, quickly stripped off his clothes, and stepped under the spastic spray. He shampooed quickly and was out of the shower mere seconds after Sara.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"Just about," Sara answered. "I'm just going to grab my purse and coat."

"Okay." Nick followed her to their lockers and they opened them up. Nick hung up his towel, knowing it would still be good for one more shower as long as it dried before then. They both grabbed their jackets and they accompanied each other out into the parking lot.

"I'll meet you there," Nick said. "Unless you want to take just one car."

"Sure, let's do that," she agreed.

"Your car or mine?"

"I think I'll catch a ride with you," Sara decided, not wanting him to know that her Tahoe was the only place in her world that she never cleaned.

"Okay. I'm over here," he said, pointing to his car, and they made their way over. Once inside, Nick started the truck and asked, "Where to?"

"Mmm…the Highball?" she suggested.

"The Highball it is," Nick consented, and pulled the truck into gear.

* * *

"So, anyway, then we found another girl near D street, and that had the same MO. Signs of sex, but no semen. And she had her shoes missing, too. We ID'ed her as Kailie Main. Troy Kinnon, the security guard for the McConroy building about a half a block away, said that he'd found her when he went out for a smoke after work. But I noticed that his teeth and fingers looked really clean, and he didn't smell like a smoker. So, I had his urine tested for nicotine, and it looked like the guy hadn't smoked a cigarette in his life. When I asked him why he lied, he admitted that he had called a hooker to meet him there after he got off shift, and when he got out, there was the body. I don't know – something about his story just didn't feel right. I pestered a judge to let me get a DNA sample from Kinnon, and I did. His DNA was a perfect match to a hair we found on the first girl, Robyn Morgan, as well as fingernail scrapings we collected. With that…" Sara finished off.

"Yeah," Nick said, nodding and knowing where the story would go from there. He sipped his martini. "So, can you match his DNA to the other two victims?"

"We haven't yet, but I asked Wendy to compare Kinnon's DNA to the fingernail scrapings we took from the first t.wo. I expect they'll match. He already confessed to killing Robyn Morgan, so at least we've got him on that." Sara shrugged and took another sip of her cocktail. Setting down the glass on the bar, she traced the rim of it with her middle finger and stared into the glass.

Noticing that she was zoning out a little bit, Nick proposed, "Penny for your thoughts."

Sara stayed silent for a moment, and then blurted out, "How can people do what they do to other people?"

Nick looked off to his right and contemplated for a moment. Finally, he shook his head. "I don't know. I know for sure that there's a lot in my past that I wish I could forget."

"Like what?" Sara asked.

Nick laughed dryly. "For starters, Nigel Crane." Sara nodded in accord. "Then, of course, Walter Gordon. And don't forget Amy Hendler."

"Amy Hendler?" Sara asked quizzically. She knew about the other two, but apparently Nick was more of a trouble magnet than she had originally thought.

"It was about a month after I was promoted to CSI III. We were at this guy's house because we thought he committed a murder, but when Brass arrested him and took him outside, Grissom followed and I was left alone with his wife. I was taking a look at some pictures, and I thought I saw something that might have been the murder weapon. I turned around to see the wife pointing a gun at my face, and then she more or less confessed to the murder." Nick sipped his martini again. "That was the first time I'd ever been held at gunpoint," he admitted.

"I'm sorry," Sara empathized.

"On top of that, there was Janelle Nicholls," he added. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized what he'd said.

"Who is Janelle Nicholls?" Sara queried.

Nick sighed. He decided to just come out with it. "She was a babysitter when I was nine. She…" – he chose his words carefully – "_hurt_ me."

Sara didn't get it. "How?"

Nick gave her a Look.

A look of realization crossed Sara's face as it dawned on her what Nick was saying. "Oh, Nick…"

Nick tried to shrug it off and hide the pain in his eyes by knocking his head back and downing the last of his martini.

Just then, a tall blonde man came up to the bar and brushed Sara's shoulder with two fingers. With a suave British accent, he asked Nick, "Would you mind if I stole the lady for a dance?"

Nick glanced at Sara and shrugged, which told her that it was up to her. "I'd love to," Sara replied. She finished off her cocktail and took his outstretched hand.

As she stood up, Nick said, "Sara, I'm going to go home right away. Are you okay to get back to your car?"

"Yeah," Sara said. "I'll take a cab back to the lab."

"You're sure?" Nick double-checked.

"I'm sure," she said, smiling.

"Well, have a good time, then. I'll see you tomorrow," Nick said. He turned to leave.

"Hey, Nick?" Sara called after him.

He turned. "Yeah?"

"Thanks. I needed this."

"My pleasure," he said, and then left the bar, got into his Denali, and drove home.

* * *

**Author's Note:** A bit of a slow start, I know, but believe me when I say that it will get a lot more exciting. Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: The first two paragraphs are meant to be fractured and incomplete, reminiscent of Sara trying to piece together what had happened. They are meant to be a bit confusing, but I promise that it will all be cleared up. As always, thank you to everybody who reviewed, and I do hope you will continue to read and review future chapters (including this one).

Warning: This chapter contains mentions of rape.

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer: Not mine. And you all just love to rub it in my face, don't you?

* * *

"**The antidote for fifty enemies is one friend." Aristotle**

_Where am I?_ was the first thought that crossed Sara's mind. She sat up straight and realized she was lying in a bed. Sunlight streamed in through the slats in the blinds, and, when her head started pounding, served as a rude reminder that she may have had a little too much to drink last night. _Wait a second_, thought Sara, straining to remember the previous evening's events. _I only had one cocktail last night_. She wasn't hung over, so why did her head hurt so much? _Last night_, she thought. _What happened last night?_ Highball. Nick. Drink. Blonde guy. Another drink? No. Only one drink. _Concentrate_, Sara commanded herself. _No. No other drink. Just one_. Her frustration escalated when she tried and tried to remember something, _anything_ from the night before, but couldn't.

Closing her eyes, she brought her hand up to her forehead in an attempt to ease the persistent throbbing. After a second, she opened her eyes again and noticed her wrist. Bruise. Sara's heart nearly stopped. That bruise hadn't been there yesterday. She stared at it in disbelief for a minute, and flipped it over to check the other side. Four plus one –the exact shape of a hand. Somebody had grabbed her wrist hard enough to bruise it. The other one, too, she saw. Horrified, she realized that she was naked from the waist down. She placed her hands on the edge of the blanket and prayed she wasn't about to see what she knew she would. Slowly pushing down the comforter, she looked down to see her own bruised thighs.

She almost cried.

Part of her wanted to go home and wash _him_ off her; whoever _he_ was. Just to scrub and scrub and scrub until he was all gone. But Sara knew that if she did that, she let him win. Also, she knew that there would be no greater satisfaction than seeing the bastard locked away. She understood that she would need to go to the Crime Lab and be processed. It meant that she would have to admit that she had been raped. Someone was going to have to take pictures of her body. The thought made her sick, but she knew it had to be done.

But who could she call? Grissom? No, definitely not Grissom. Nick? Yeah, Nick. After finding about his babysitting incident, she knew he'd know what she was going through. But Sara wanted a female there, too. Nick was a wonderful, caring, supportive individual, but he was still a guy, and frankly, she didn't want him to see her naked.

She found a phone next to her and, hands trembling, she dialed the Crime Lab.

"Las Vegas Crime Lab, how may I help you?" Sara recognized Judy's voice.

"May I speak to Nick Stokes, please?" Sara asked, trying to sound composed.

"One moment, please." Sara heard a click as she was put on hold, and then a moment later, heard the phone start to ring.

"Stokes," Nick answered on the second ring.

"Nick?"

"Sara." He heard the shaking in her voice. "What's wrong?"

"I need you to find Archie. Have him trace my location."

"What's wrong, Sara?" Nick asked as he walked through the halls to the A/V lab.

"Please just have him do it. I'll explain everything later," Sara promised.

"Okay…hey, Arch. Can you do me a favour?"

"Yeah, sure, Nick," Archie replied. "What do you need?"

"I'm going to give you to Archie now, okay, Sara?" Nick said into the phone.

"Okay," she agreed.

"I need you to trace the location of this call," Nick told Archie, and handed him the phone. Archie got to work right away, and thirty seconds later, a location popped up on his screen.

"Budget Motel off Flamingo, room 212," Nick read off the screen into the phone.

"Thanks, Nick. Now I need you to go somewhere alone, where nobody will hear you," Sara requested.

More worried by the second, Nick obeyed and went into the empty layout room. "Okay, I'm alone."

"Nick, I need you and Catherine to come to where I am. Bring your kits and cameras, and you have to treat my room like a crime scene," she directed.

"Sara, please tell me what's wrong," Nick pleaded. "Are you okay?"

A pause. "No," she admitted. "But I'm not in immediate danger. I'll explain when you get here. Come soon, okay?"

"Of course," Nick promised. "I'll just grab Catherine and we'll leave right away."

"Thanks, Nick," Sara said.

"I'll be there soon," he vowed. "Bye."

"Bye."

Nick snapped his phone shut and went to find Catherine. He found her reading a magazine on the breakroom couch. "Hey, Catherine?" Nick said.

Catherine turned her attention from the pages to Nick. "Yeah?"

"Sara needs us. ASAP. Grab your kit and your camera, and I'll explain everything on the way," Nick promised.

"Umm…okay," she said hesitantly. "I'll be at your car in a minute."

"Alright," Nick agreed, and went out to his Denali, where his camera and kit were already taking up space in the backseat. As promised, Catherine appeared in a moment, her gear under her arm.

"So, what's up?" Catherine asked as Nick pulled the SUV into gear.

"Sara just called me. She didn't know where she was, and when she had me trace the call, it came back to a motel. I'm worried about her, Cath," Nick confessed.

"This can't be good," Catherine stated, and they both knew they were thinking the same thing, though neither wanted to say it out loud.

"No," Nick agreed. "It can't."

A few minutes later, they pulled up to the Budget Motel – a seedy-looking low-cost place. They went to the front desk and asked for the key to room 212. Once they had it, they approached Sara's room and Nick knocked lightly. "Sara?" he called. "We're here. We have a key, can we come in?"

"Yeah, come in. But remember, treat it like a crime scene, guys," she reminded.

"Got it," Nick assured. They snapped on their gloves, and then Nick unlocked the door and they entered cautiously. The sight of Sara sitting upright on the bed, tearstains on her face, was enough to make Nick cry himself.

"Hey," Catherine greeted softly. "What's the matter?" she asked, though she was pretty sure she knew why they were there.

"Guys, I think I was raped," Sara came out with it.

Nick took the news like a bullet to the chest, and somehow felt responsible. _If only I hadn't left her at the bar…_ Nick tried to shake the thought. Right now, he needed to be there for Sara and not worry about his only feelings.

"Catherine, I need you to photograph and process me," Sara continued matter-of-factly, trying to appear like she was in control of the situation. "Nick, can you process the scene?" she asked.

"Of course," he promised. "Catherine, do you want to take her to the hospital and process her there?"

"Yeah. Let's go, Sara," Catherine said.

Sara, a bit embarrassed, said, "I'm not wearing anything except this," motioning to her black T-shirt.

Nick, taking the hint, said, "I'll be outside." He excused himself while Catherine and Sara tried to figure out what to do. Catherine found Sara's pants at the foot of the bed and handed them to her, but neither was able to find her underwear.

"I'll just go without," Sara resolved, frustrated and just wanting to get it all over with. She stepped out of the bed and slid on the slacks, but before they left for the hospital, she said to Catherine, "Test my clothes for fibres."

Catherine knelt down, opened her kit, and took out one of the sticky cards. She unfolded it and stuck it all over Sara's pants. Before she folded the tape onto the card, Catherine held it up to the light and inspected the hairs and fibres. There wasn't much, but there might be something. She tucked it into her an envelope and labelled it. "Okay, let's go to the hospital now."

The two women left and took Nick's Denali with them, while Nick re-entered the room and started processing.

* * *

"Sara, I know this is embarrassing," Catherine started, "but I'm going to need to photograph your injuries." The two women were at the hospital. Sara sat on the gurney and Catherine stood next to her, the curtain around them closed. 

"I know," Sara acknowledged. She took a deep breath and pulled her shirt over her head. She unclasped her bra and slid off her pants. Catherine gasped when Sara took off her bra. Sara looked down and was horrified to see at least twelve bite marks all over her torso.

"I know it's hard," Catherine said. She poised the camera and started to photograph Sara. Every so often, she would look up at Sara's face to see how she was doing, and Catherine could tell that she was trying hard not to cry.

Suddenly, Sara spoke. "We process so many victims that this happens to, we say the same words over and over. Now, I hear you say those words, and it…it just hurts so much," she confessed, and a tear fell down her cheek.

Catherine took a few more photographs, capped the lens of her camera, and said to Sara, "I'm sorry. I really am sorry."

"You should call the nurse in now to take the vaginal swab," Sara suggested, trying to distract herself, trying to concentrate on what needed to be done to get the bastard who had done this to her.

Catherine held out a hospital gown to Sara so she could put it on while the nurse was in there. Sara reached for it, but before Catherine let go of it, she met Sara's eyes. "We're going to get him, Sara," she promised. "We're going to get him."

* * *

Author's Note: Well, there's your second chapter. I apologize for the angstiness of it all, but I think that's the worst of it. Please review! 


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Thank you for all the reviews! They are much appreciated although sometimes I miss one or two when I reply. I apologize if I missed you, it's not because I don't care. :) I'm sorry that this is so short, but I think it's a good place to leave off, so I'm doing it my way. ;)

To **refinnej**: Thanks! I totally agree with you, Snickers is the best. ;) Thank you for reviewing!

**Spoilers:** _Overload_ (though not in the typical big-childhood-confession way)

**Warning:** Strong language in this chapter.

_Special thanks to **bauerfreak** for the work-around on FF's little glitch._

* * *

A young nurse stood outside the curtain and asked the two women inside, "Can I come in?"

"Sure," Sara replied, having already put on the gown.

The petite redheaded woman pulled the curtain aside. When she saw Catherine standing there, she politely requested, "Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"No, she can stay," Sara decided. Right now, what Sara needed more than anything in the world was moral support.

As Sara leaned back and lifted her legs into the stirrups, Catherine took her hand and squeezed it a bit, telling Sara that she had what she needed the most – a friend.

* * *

"Hey, Sara," Sofia greeted quietly with a half-smile as she pulled aside the curtain. "How are you doing? Are you okay?"

Sara shook her head a bit and put her hand to her forehead. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes but none fell. Squeezing her eyes shut and looking down, she admitted, "No," before she took a soblike breath, despite there still being no tears on her face.

"We're here for you, okay?" Sofia promised, to which Sara nodded her head.

"I know," Sara acknowledged.

"You know I'm going to have to interview you," Sofia tried to break to her gently. She knew that at this point in time, it was probably the last thing Sara wanted to do.

"I thought you might," Sara sighed.

"You want to tell me about last night?" Sofia started.

"Not really, but I will."

Sofia nodded. They all felt for Sara and wished that she didn't have to go through this. "What did you do last night after work?"

"After shift, I went out for a drink," Sara started.

"Did you go with anyone?" Sofia asked.

Nodding, Sara said, "Nick."

"Nick?" Sofia asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"Mmhmm," she affirmed, nodding a bit. "It wasn't a date," she added, seeing that the wheels in Sofia's head were turning. "I had a tough case and he offered to go to a bar with me."

Sofia shrugged. "Whatever you say," she teased. From Sara's smirk, Sofia knew that she'd lightened the mood a little. "What bar did you go to?"

Sara opened her mouth as if to answer, but suddenly furrowed her brow. She pursed her lips and tried to think of what bar they'd gone to. Shaking her head a little bit, she admitted, "I can't remember. You'll have to ask Nick."

"That's probably a side effect of whatever drug is in your system," Sofia explained.

Sara nodded in assent. "Probably. I can only remember bits and pieces, but I remember more now than I did when I woke up." Shaking her head a little, she continued, "I remember there was this guy at the bar who wanted to dance with me."

"Did you?"

"I don't remember," Sara said, exasperated. It was so frustrating to her; the details were all _there_, she knew them…but she couldn't retrieve them. It was like someone had buried something in a hole in the ground and told her exactly where it was. She kept digging and digging only a hair's breadth away from what she was looking for, while the person who'd buried it stood over her and laughed in her face.

"Do you remember anything else about last night?" Sofia asked.

Sara stared into space for a minute and started to shake her head. "N – _yes_," she interrupted herself. "There was a red vehicle."

"Car, truck, van, SUV?" Sofia asked.

"I can't remember, but I know it was red." How she remembered that without remembering the make and model was beyond her.

"Alright. I'm going to go chase this down. Take care of yourself, Sara," Sofia advised, placing a hand on Sara's shoulder.

"Thanks, Sofia," Sara said honestly.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the room, Nick processed the scene. He didn't feel right being there. Something horribly wrong had happened in that very room not six hours ago, to someone he cared deeply about.

As Nick poked through the room, he could see that Sara's attacker had clearly not been interested in covering his tracks. He found fibres and hairs galore, and lifted several prints off the headboard, doorknobs, and bedside table. What worried Nick more than anything was that he could not find a condom anywhere, and he was scared of what that could mean for Sara. If she were pregnant or had HIV…Nick shook the thought from his mind.

The most gut-wrenching moment of his entire life came next. Just next to the boxspring, he found Sara's lacy turquoise thong. The sight of it made him want to throw up. The mere shadow of a speculation of the thought of what had happened to Sara…his mind just didn't even want to go there. He couldn't even _think_ about it, and yet Sara had endured it, and would have to live with it for the rest of her life. This was wrong. He didn't think he could do it; he knew he didn't want to. But deep down, Nick knew that he was the one Sara wanted working the scene, or she wouldn't have called him. Memories of that fateful night when Nick was nine flooded his mind; haunted his thoughts. He could still feel her lips pressing down on him, her hands in places it shouldn't have been. But Sara had been violated in a much deeper way. She had been drugged; left defenseless while some fucking bastard had done God-knows-what to her for God-knows-how-long. He clenched his jaw and made a silent vow to both himself and to Sara that he would catch the son of a bitch who had done this to her, and whether or not it was legal, Nick would make him pay. Nick's momentarily hardened heart melted instantly when he once again laid eyes on the turquoise garment in front of him, and felt a single watery bead slide down his cheek. Nick knew that it was for Sara.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Liked it? Tell me in a review. Loved it? Tell me in a review. Hated it? Tell me in a review. Want to start your computer on fire? Tell me in a review. Have at least one X chromosome or a nose? Tell me in a review.

My point? REVIEW!

Okay, I'm done now.


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